


Our Place In The World

by flipflop_diva



Series: This Place In The World [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Developing Relationship, F/M, Light Angst, Natasha Feels, Natasha-centric, POV Natasha Romanov, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers Is Awesome, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 18:18:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6340135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you have to stop running and take a chance. Or at least that's what Steve is trying to get Natasha to understand.</p>
<p>Part 3 of 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Place In The World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soundingonlyatnightasyousleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soundingonlyatnightasyousleep/gifts).



> And here we are at the end! I enjoyed writing this for you. I hope you liked it!

Steve kissed her on a hot August night when the humidity hung in the air like a damp curtain, making their skin glisten with sweat and her curls stick to her head. It was far from a glorious moment.

They were up on the roof of Sam’s building, sitting side-by-side on a blanket, a picnic dinner Steve had insisted on cooking for her because he knew she was having a hard time spread out in front of them. (She didn’t know why he thought this, though. Or how he thought he knew this. She certainly hadn’t said anything. And she definitely didn’t look wistful when they shared stories with Sam of past missions and crazy adventures over bottles of wine after dinner, but he had smiled at her when he told her his plan and she was too busy getting lost in his eyes — something that seemed to be happening a little too often lately — to correct him.)

The sun was beginning to set by the time they had finished eating, the reds and the oranges of the sky reflecting off the gold of his hair. He put his wine glass down and reached over, his fingers covering her hand, his blue eyes peering into hers. It was like she couldn’t move, couldn’t breath.

He moved closer, leaning into her more and more, until his lips were pressed against hers, soft and gentle and so much better than the first time they had done this, on that escalator at the mall, running from Hydra.

After a moment, he pulled back, smiled at her, squeezed her hand. She had the urge to jump to her feet, to make a run for it right then and there, but she didn’t. She somehow managed to stay, to sit and keep talking and pretend she was fine until they went back inside.

She lay in bed that night, beside him, her mind spinning. She had kissed a lot of men — and women — in her life, but it had always been for a reason. A mission, a target, a piece of information. None of them had ever looked at her the way Steve looked at her up on that roof. None of them had ever made her want to stay with them, to curl up next to them, to _trust_ them.

She waited until she was sure Steve was asleep before she slipped out of bed, sliding her feet into her boots and strapping all her weapons back into position. She didn’t need any of the stuff she had managed to acquire over the last few months, stuff that was somehow now taking up closet space and bathroom space and even kitchen space in Sam’s place. She just needed to get away.

She didn’t get far. She’d barely made it two blocks down the street, keeping to the shadows, before there he was — somehow, inexplicably, blocking her path, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his head cocked, his eyes focused directly on her.

He looked more amused than angry, though, and that was somehow more unnerving.

“You know,” Steve started when she stopped a few paces from him, “you try for a year to get me to go on a date with a woman, and when I finally do, she runs off in the middle of the night and ditches me.”

Natasha didn’t answer, just looked at him, trying to keep all expression off her face. 

He kept talking. “I know this isn’t really comfortable territory for you,” he said. “It’s not for me either.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile at that. “I’m not really the type of person someone gets into a relationship with.”

“I’m not either.”

She scoffed. “Please,” she said. “You’re the guy every woman in America wants.”

He arched a brow. “ _Every_ woman?”

Natasha hadn’t blushed involuntarily since she was fourteen years old — one of the many Red Room training techniques that also came in handy at various times — but for a moment, her face felt a lot warmer than normal. She was glad it was dark.

“Every other woman,” she returned. 

“Hmmmm,” he said, and then he shrugged. “I guess that’s too bad for them, since there is only one woman I want.”

“Steve …”

“Hear me out, Natasha. I’m not asking you for anything you don’t want to do. I’m not even asking for anything we’re not doing already, except for the physical stuff. If you want, that is. You already sleep next to me at night. You already spend all day talking with me.”

“Steve …”

He took a step toward her, the gentle smile that had been on his face the whole time fading into something more serious. “Will you trust me?”

Trust. That was a loaded request. She knew it. She knew he knew it. Sure, something had happened between them, somehow, in between running for their lives and taking down helicarriers and sharing stories over bottles of wine, but there was a difference between trusting him to have her back and trusting him not betray her or leave her behind and trusting him with her heart, her secrets, her _self_.

She wasn’t sure if she could do that. She wasn’t sure if she could _ever_ do that. Even Clint, who arguably knew more about her than almost everyone else combined, didn’t know everything.

_Never trust anyone._

It had been a lesson drilled into her head for years and years. Never trust anyone. Never make friends. Never let your guard down.

Steve took another step toward her, then another and another, until he was right there, right in front of her. He lifted his hand, placed it gently on her cheek. His thumb stroked over her cheekbone. “Will you trust me?” he whispered again.

_Never trust anyone._

The voice in her head screamed at her. The instinct in her body told her run.

_Never trust anyone._

But she trusted Clint. And he was one of the best things she had in her life. And she did trust Steve. Not in every way, but in a lot of ways.

“Will you trust me?”

_Never trust anyone._

She closed her eyes, leaned into Steve’s touch. “I’ll try,” she murmured.

She expected him to kiss her again. He didn’t. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her against his chest. “That’s all I needed to know,” he whispered into her hair.

She lifted her hand, found his, slipped her fingers between his. “I want to trust you,” she whispered into his chest.

It felt good to say it out loud.

It felt even better to realize it was true.

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
>   
> 


End file.
